


Lords of the Dance

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quad drabble of the sons of Denethor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lords of the Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

"Come, little brother. Let us show these poor excuses for dancers how this is supposed to be done!"   
  
With that he grabbed Faramir's forearm and hauled him to his feet. Faramir grinned. Both men drew their swords from their scabbards and placed them on the ground. Suddenly, stillness filled the night air. The stars themselves seemed to pause in their flight. The tension was palpable. Everyone knew this was a contest, for, though great was the love brother for brother, great also was the love of competition. The men started singing, accompanied by a slow steady clapping; they knew they were in for a treat. The brothers smiled and started circling their swords and each other. Slowly, they moved to the dance. The men's clapping grew faster. The brothers' feet flew, hands held high in the air one moment, then reaching for their swords in the next. The clapping spurred both brothers' feet into faster movement. Laughter was warm upon Faramir's face, but Boromir's, though a smile covered it, showed deep concentration. Faramir danced much better Boromir knew, but at speed, none could match him. As the clapping got faster and stronger, shouts roared from men caught up in the excitement that was before them. Suddenly, Faramir stumbled and fell backwards. Hoots of laughter went up from the men, but a look of consternation covered Boromir's face. He growled at the men who immediately ceased their taunting. Faramir started to get up, but Boromir was quickly at his side with his arm outstretched.   
  
"Forgive me, brother. I should have stopped moments ago."   
  
Faramir smiled and clapped Boromir on the shoulder as he was pulled upright. "That was fun. You always did best me when the dance raised its speed, though perhaps…"  
  
"None dance as gracefully as you, little brother," Boromir interrupted. "Any great brute can move his feet quickly. It takes skills to move them well. I am sorry!" He hugged him fiercely and with great pride. The men strode forward and pounded them both on their backs congratulating them.   
  
But then silence shattered the moment. The men quickly parted and Denethor stood before them. An embarrassed smile spread across Boromir's face as he moved forward to greet his father.   
  
"So, I send you on patrol and what do I find?" The scowl hid the twinkle in his eye. "You won, of course?"   
  
"Only because I tripped Faramir!" Boromir grinned.


End file.
